The Strong and the Weak
by Aslan's Lamb
Summary: What makes someone strong? What makes someone weak? A series of moments in Elsa's life as she grows up. From her and other characters' POV.
1. Weakness

Elsa finished her mathematics assignment and placed it carefully on her desk.

Her father had asked her to have it done by tonight so he could check over it. It was a particularly difficult set of problems but although she was far from brilliant in math, she was persistent. She had kept working at each problem until it made sense and now she could look at the finished product with pride.

Pride was good because it was a positive emotion, one easy to control. Hopefully, as a queen, she would be able to manage just like this, with determination and hard work and pride.

_What if not?_

Elsa pushed away the thought. Of course, she would have moments of worry and fear. Everybody had those. But then she would simply ask for time to be alone, to calm down and suppress the silver iciness flowing through hands against her will. And her mother and father would always be there to make sure she had that time alone, that nobody came close to her. Then, when she was ready, she would return to the people and smile upon them serenely. And nobody would ever know.

_Knock, knock._

Elsa jumped at the sound and felt cold tingling in her fingertips for a split second. Her reaction to something unexpected. Luckily, she was wearing her gloves. If she wasn't, there would be an icicle on the floor and a puddle to mop up later. And how would she explain it to the servants when there was no water in her room? What if they found out? What if everybody found out?

Elsa closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, the way her mother had taught her.

If they had keep the secret successfully for twelve years, there was no reason to panic now.

_Knock, knock._

Mother and father never knocked.

It was Anna. Who else? But Anna only knocked in the winters and on rainy days when she was bored and forced to stay inside.

Over time, Elsa had come to think of her little sister as a sort of butterfly flitting about the palace. She was small and sweet and wonderfully free but also very fragile. Butterflies didn't mix with snow and ice.

Knock, knock.

Elsa spoke as calmly as she could. "Anna?"

"Yes," came the reply from behind the door. "It's me."

"Mother isn't here. Neither is father," Elsa said. "You're looking for them, right?"

"No!" Anna said. "I need help with a problem. From you."

Elsa found herself curious. What sorts of problem could carefree Anna possibly have? "What's wrong?" she heard her voice saying.

"Can I come in?"

"No!" Elsa snapped.

"_Fine_. It's a math problem."

Oh," Elsa said. "Of course, it would be that."

'What do you mean?" Anna said indignantly.

"Nothing. You need to find father."

"He told me that I had to figure it out on my own. But I'm just stuck! It's not fair!"

_Welcome to real life_, Elsa thought. But she didn't say that. "What's the problem?"

"Well." There was a sound of shuffling papers. "Arendel has six hundred horses all together. There are two male horses for each female horse. How many male horses and female horses are there?"

Elsa thought. She saw immediately how the problem might be done but to explain it...that was the hard part. "Suppose that you have six horses," she said. "And there are two males for each female. Can you do figure that out?"

"Why?" Anna asked.

"Because. I am asking you to."

There was a silence. "Four males and two females," Anna said triumphantly.

"Good. Now, do six hundred horses."

"Huh?"

"It's the same concept," Elsa said. She stared at the door. It would be so easy to just open the door and draw a picture. She wouldn't touch Anna. She wouldn't even look at her. She'd just draw the picture and let it speak for itself. But father and mother had said no.

"I don't get it." Anna sounded near tears. "Why can't the grooms just count all those horses and leave _me_ alone?"

Elsa smiled. She had an idea. "Imagine that when I am queen, I gather all the horses together and I give you one horse for each two horses that I keep for myself. How would I split them up?"

Anna thought for a moment. "You'd line them up and count off. Numbers one and two, go to you, number three goes to me." Anna giggled. "That rhymes."

"So if I was counting off each horse, and I got ten horses, how many would you have?"

"Five."

"And if I had twenty, how many would you have?"

Ten."

"And if together we had six hundred, how many would I have?"

Anna thought. Then she shrieked. "I actually get it! You'd have four hundred!"

"Good," Elsa said. "Now you can go away."

There was a quick gasp from behind the door, followed by a silence.

Elsa sighed. She turned around, ready to walk away from the door.

"Except that you would never share any horses with me," Anna said suddenly. "You never share anything."

Elsa felt tears rush to her eyes. "You just don't understand. You already have everything you could possibly want. While I'm always stuck in here."

"But _why_?" Anna asked. "Do mother and father lock you in?"

"No. They want me to be here but I choose to be here too," said Elsa, honestly.

'Then you're not really stuck," Anna replied, her voice choked. "And you could be out here with me but...but you don't want to be! You can have your stupid horses! I don't want them anyway!"

Elsa heard the footsteps as her sister ran down the hall.

An hour later, when her father came in, he found Elsa curled up in bed, eyes closed, her blanket and sheets thick with white frost in spite of the gloves. "I'm trying," he heard her wail. "I really am. But I just _can't_ not feel. I can't."

He stood there for a moment. He hugged Anna all the time but hugging Elsa was too dangerous. He reached out for a wisp of her hair and began to stroke it. "You aren't doing anything wrong, Elsa. You're the kindest, gentlest, smartest little girl ever and you're trying your very best to be brave. Mother and I are so proud of you."

Elsa grew calmer as he spoke. She took a few deep breaths, stood up straight. "My blanket. It will be all wet. The servants will think - "

"I'll take care of it. Now, what happened earlier?"

"Ask Anna," Elsa said tightly.

"Anna? You didn't open the door, did you?" The words came out before he could stop them.

"No. I didn't." Elsa sounded tired. "We just talked. She got angry at me because I wouldn't come out."

"Anna is strong," he said. "She can take it."

"But I don't know if _I_ can," Elsa said, her voice shaky.

Someday, they would tell Anna, he thought. Someday, they would sit down their little whirlwind of a girl and tell her everything and then she would understand and forgive. For now, he hoped her natural cheerfulness would pull her through. It was Elsa that he needed to comfort now. He reached for her gloved hand and held it tightly.

Meanwhile, Elsa was thinking, it was so strange. Anna needed to be protected but Anna was strong. It was a paradox, just like the way _she_ didn't need to be protected but was always afraid of things.

"It will get easier," her father said. As Elsa looked at him, he saw that she didn't believe him.

"It won't," she said. "I just have to get stronger instead. And avoid talking to Anna."

"Yes, that's probably for the best," her father said. "And I'll speak to her too. I'll tell her that you are busy."

"Can you...can you tell her that I love her?"

Her father smiled sadly. "I will."


	2. Stronger Alone

**Author's Note: I am living in one of those rare moments when I am feeling really passionate about certain characters ****_and_**** I have the time to write. Hence, this chapter. Please review.**

* * *

It was odd, Elsa thought, how her tears did not turn to ice or snow.

Three days ago, her mute handmaid Helga had brought in a very brief letter. The letter informed her that her parents had died at sea. It froze into a thin slate of ice in her hands. Then she dropped it and it broke, just like her heart, into tiny pieces.

Yet, somehow her tears were normal salty liquid. So it was safe to cry.

She changed her gloves for a new pair, for the fifth time that day.The box where she kept her gloves was dark green, given to her by her mother. There were words engraved on it in gold. The words were "First, do no harm."

They would be returning from the funeral now, the ladies and gentlemen grave and silent, the servants hugging Anna as if she was their own little girl. They would put her to bed with some soothing herbal tea and sit by her until she fell asleep. She would be all right. Anna was strong.

While _she_ was here with nobody but Helga to stand by as she grieved. And Helga was not a very emotional sort. It was not fair but whoever said that it had to be?

You can't expect anyone to help you through, she thought. You must conquer your pain by yourself using what mother and father have taught you. Not right this second. There is time. Three years stretched out before her, quiet and lonely but comforting too. Maybe in three years time, she would not feel so lost anymore. Maybe by the time she was twenty one, she would figure everything out and emerge, like some ancient thinker, with all of the answers.

_Knock, knock._

She gasped, turned around.

"Elsa? I know you're in there. People are asking where you've been."

Anna's voice, soft and exhausted.

"They say have courage and I'm trying to…I'm here for you. Just let me in."

Always before Anna had knocked with some request, something she _wanted_. Now, for the first time, she was _offering_ something. _I'm here for you._ Grief had made little Anna grow up.

If Elsa opened the door, if they could just _look _at each other, would everything would be all right somehow?

"We only have each other now," Anna was saying. "It's just you and me. What are we going to do?"

But how could she believe in anything so optimistic when cruel reality had passed by so recently? Her parents were _dead_. And if Elsa knew anything about Arendelle's oceans, they had not died by drowning. There had probably been driftwood of some sort to hold onto in the ocean but in the middle of winter, how long could you keep afloat? They had most likely _frozen_ to death. They had died from the thing that was the deepest part of her.

And if she let herself get close to Anna, if she so much as froze Anna's little_ finger_, she knew she would go jump into that ocean where both her power and her pain could dissolve in the greater cold and finally be harmless.

She reached for a piece of parchment and a pencil.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Anna's voice broke as she spoke.

Elsa finished writing and hurriedly pushed the parchment under the door.

The note said, "I love you. Go away. Don't knock on my door again."

From the silence on the other side of the door, she knew that Anna had read the note. She heard the sound of parchment being crumpled into a ball.

She buried her face in her arms and let herself cry because she was too weak not to and because tears were safe.


	3. No Longer Alone

Because it was her birthday, Elsa allowed herself a five minute conversation with her sister. She had thought about it and decided that something so brief probably wouldn't hurt anybody. It was her present to herself.

Now, that she was talking to Anna, seeing her eyes light up and hearing her laugh, she remembered why, at eight, she had loved playing with her more than with anyone else. Anna was _all _emotion. Unlike their parents, she never held herself back. Whatever she felt, she felt it _completely_. Right now, she was happy and it made her so charming, that everyone who looked at her _had_ to smile.

The musicians played with gusto. The air smelled like chocolate.

"This is nice," Anna said.

Enough, Elsa thought. She would remember the moment for weeks. Maybe Anna would as well but enough was_ enough_. She cut the conversation off as politely as she could.

"Unfortunately, it can't always be like this."

"Well, why not?" Anna asked directly.

She should have remembered Anna's personality. A little bit was never enough for her.

"It just can't."

Anna's eyes flashed with hurt. "Excuse me." She marched past Elsa, quickened her pace and bumped into a young man.

Elsa found that she was taking step forward, just to be near in case Anna was too upset to make conversation. But Anna was already laughing and accepting the young man's invitation to waltz. That quickly.

Elsa stepped back into her appointed place. She tried to feel glad. I am _not _glad, she realized. Yes, poor, rejected Anna. So angry and hurt, it took one dashing smile to make her forget about it completely.

* * *

Anna wondered whether Hans felt as self conscious as she did. They were walking in the garden and she was going on and on about her lonely life, wondering if she was talking too much but simply _unable_ to stop because nobody ha_d really_ listened to her for the past three years. The servants had always pretended to listen but she knew they were paid to pretend. Generally, they tuned her out.

But Hans listened seriously, intently, kindly. He asked all the right questions.

"Is this all really boring?" she finally asked nervously. "Am I talking too much?"

Hans shook his head. "I like it." He kissed her hand, making it tingle. This was just like she had imagined it would be, while romping through town this morning. She pulled her hand away and fixed her hair. She couldn't seem too eager. But then Hans took her hand again and she let him.

"You have the nicest dimple in your left cheek," he said.

Anna felt tears fill her eyes. Her father had teased her about that dimple once. "Thank you."

* * *

"Queen Elsa?" A young woman approached her. She had short dark hair, large luminous green eyes and a small delicate crown. A princess. "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you." Elsa studied her trying to match her up to one of the faces in her recent history textbook. The young woman would have been a child when the book was written. She would have been portrayed on a family painting. But nothing came to mind.

I'm princess Rapunzel. Don't worry if you don't know who I am. I mean, _I_ didn't know who I was until 6 months ago." She chuckled.

"Really?" Elsa didn't know what else to say.

"I was kidnapped as a baby."

"The lost princess!" Elsa said, remembering. She _had_ read about that.

"Yes. Kidnapped because of my magic hair." The girl shrugged. "So how do you feel about becoming queen?"

"Wait." Elsa was suddenly dizzy. "You have magic hair?"

This was astonishing. Elsa had never met any other human being with magic powers before. She knew she was not the only one but also knew she was very _rare_. Now here was another person, around her age and from a royal family as well. Did she hide her powers? Were they dangerous? She suddenly felt a powerful kinship with Rapunzel, suddenly wanted to tell her everything.

"Not anymore. A friend of mine...cut it off. It wouldn't grow back."

"Oh. Did you ask him to?"

"No." Rapunzel shook her head and bit her lip. "The way he saw it, my hair was keeping me from my freedom, from living the life I was meant for…he was kind of setting me free."

Elsa thought of her hands, her terrible, magical hands. If her hands got cut off at the elbows, would she be trading in her secret struggle for a more obvious handicap? Would she be able to finally hold Anna close? To lean on a man's shoulder someday?

"Were you glad to lose it?" she asked.

Rapunzel frowned. "No. I was furious. It had the power to heal, you see, and Flynn was _dying_. But it all worked out in the end. And it was just hair." She smiled. "I am more than my hair."

Yes. This radiant girl clearly was _more._ She had probably been _more_ even while she had magical hair. She had probably even forgotten about it at times. But Elsa's feet left bits of ice on her carpet even while the fireplace was blazing and her eyelashes were often covered with frost when she woke up in the mornings. She could not contain her powers in her hands alone. They were in every cell of her body. She controlled them with great difficulty and sometimes, they controlled her.

Elsa turned away. No connection there, after all.

"Are you all right?" The girl touched her on the shoulder. Elsa instinctively pulled away.

"Yes."

"Perhaps, we could write to each other when I return to my kingdom," said Rapunzel kindly.

Elsa smiled. That would be pleasant _and_ safe for everyone concerned. "I'd like that."

* * *

Anna and Hans were running through the ballroom, dodging the guests and laughing. Anna considered the words she was about to say to Elsa. _Hans and I are engaged. _It sounded so strange, so funny. She could hardly believe it herself.

She felt an odd twist in her stomach. Could she be..._scared_ of this?

"Hans?"

Hans stopped and turned, instantly attentive. "Yes?"

"Can we just not...not hurry to get married? I mean, I _do_ love you but...let's take some time to...learn each other."

"Well, of _course_," Hans said. "You might change your mind."

"Oh, no!" Anna said automatically. "I would never!"

Hans's smile glowed. He drew Anna close and her fears disappeared. Here was a person who truly loved her.


	4. No Longer Strong

They were in front of Elsa and Anna was stumbling over her words, trying to explain everything, even though it sounded ridiculous to her. "We're asking for your blessing," she finished.

Elsa's eyes narrowed. "Can I speak with you privately?"

Once when Anna had been six and misbehaving at a party, her mother had pulled her into the bushes under the pretext of fixing her hair. Then, she had spanked her twice.

Anna had indignantly wailed, "You should have _warned_ me, so I would stop. You are sneaky, mama."

Her mother had stood up straight. "What is between us is nobody's business, Anna. You know what I expect but I will never correct you in public. We are a family. To others, we are one whole_._"

Anna had nodded tearfully. From then on, she understood. Many things were all right in private but in public, almost nothing was.

She saw now that Elsa was like their mother in that way.

But their mother had spent plenty of time alone with Anna. Anna was punished in private but she was also loved, caressed and comforted in private. The last time_ Elsa_ had spoken to Anna seriously about something (through the door), they had been ten and twelve. Why had it taken her _engagement_ for Elsa to suggest another real conversation? So many years of knocking on Elsa's door and getting either a curt note or silence in return...She ought to have gotten engaged long before this.

She looked at Elsa again and saw uncertainty in her eyes. She was worried. _At what I might do? Am I, for just a moment, the one in control? _

She wanted to stretch out the moment, to make it last.

"Anything you can say before me, you can say before Hans," she retorted.

Elsa's face paled. "Then I don't bless the marriage. Party's over. Close the gates." She turned away. Just like that she took all the control back again. Anna felt white hot rage fizzing inside of her, rage that Elsa hadn't even tried being kind about it, hadn't even thought about how Hans might _feel_. That she could be so blunt and imperious and get away with it.

"No, no, wait..." She grabbed Elsa's hand and Elsa jerked it away as if she had touched a hot stove.

"Give me back my glove," Elsa said sharply.

_She is afraid of touching me_, Anna thought, staring. A young man she had just met held her hand all evening but her own sister wouldn't _touch_ her.

And then, it was like a wave swept over her and she was shouting things, angry things, things that she had wanted to say for years. "What did I ever do to you?" and "Why do you keep shutting me out?" and "What are you so _afraid _of?"

In the next few moments, she realized that Elsa was not at all who she thought she was.

* * *

Elsa ran up the mountain.

She could still see their terrified faces. Nobody would want her for a queen now. They would want Anna, awkward, charming Anna, charming_ because_ she was so awkward. Anna did not realize how many of her weaknesses were really strengths when it came to making people like her. She was relatable and approachable and sweet. _Anna _had not lost anything in that verbal spar they'd had because everyone else had seen her pain. They would sigh at her lack of self control but would secretly feel sorry for her.

_Meanwhile, I have lost everything. _

Her breaths were coming too fast. Her chest was beginning to hurt and her eyes burned. Elsa stopped. She took the deep breaths her mother had taught her. She tried to reflect.

The best thing to do would be to go back to the castle, resign and hand the scepter and crown over to Anna. Officially. It would be more...organized.

_I cannot go back. I cannot face those faces again._ Her ice creation was probably still by the ballroom door for everyone to see.

_I just can't! _Tears rushed to her eyes. She blinked them away and her feet kept carrying her up the mountain a little slower but, still, persistently up.

Father and mother. She saw their faces now too, sad and weary. Heard their constant stream of soft-spoken advice..._Don't let them in, don't let them see...conceal...put on a show..._ Her parents had been naïve to think she was that strong. Perhaps, the three of them could have figured out this balance between her public persona as an intelligent, levelheaded queen and her lifelong struggle as _Elsa._ Dangerous, distant, terrified Elsa. Alone, she could not do it. Even without Anna's little tempest, the charade could not have lasted very long.

_I'm sorry. Mother. Father. I couldn't do it._

Glistening snow. It wasn't just behind her in a trail but all around her in a growing circle. And more snow up ahead. How could there be snow in places she hadn't even reached yet? Was the snow welcoming her when nobody else would? She liked that thought. Snow as her _friend_.

And what was the point of the silly green glove when the snow kept coming anyway?

She yanked it off and let it soar away in the wind.

She wanted to _make_ something. Something beautiful.


	5. Alone Again

When Elsa was eleven years old, she used to be fascinated with the illustrated Bible on her bookshelf. It was written in Latin, so she could not read it by herself, but she would spend hours looking at the gorgeous drawings that went around the borders of each page with text, and filled up the pages without text. Her favorite page had a picture of a man sleeping on the ground, while a golden staircase glowed beside him. No house, just a staircase that seemed to lead into the sky.

"That is Jacob," her father had explained. "He is running away from his brother. They had a terrible fight."

"Is he going to go up that staircase?"

Her father had shook his head. "The staircase is for angels, not humans. It's how God gave Jacob a sign that He was watching over him."

Elsa had been confused. She was a practical child, so she wondered, what was the point of a staircase that you didn't_ climb_?

The next page showed Jacob meeting a beautiful lady by a well. The first time she was looking through it, Elsa had hoped that Jacob and the lady would go back to the staircase and climb it together...but they never did. On the next page, they took care of sheep and had a baby. Elsa had always felt a bit disappointed when she reached that page.

Now, the story of Jacob came to mind again. She had run away from home, just like him. Just like him, she had lost everything. Except Jacob had _already_ hurt his brother. She had left had _before_ Anna could get hurt. Perhaps, that made her wiser?

* * *

Anna stared at the icy trail left over the fjord. Her eyes burned.

_I couldn't stop her._

"Did you know?" Hans asked, helping her up.

"No," Anna said quietly.

It was beginning to snow.

The duke was shouting behind them, his face burgundy. "The queen has cursed this land!"

"_What?"_ Anna said. "Elsa wouldn't – "

"Is there sorcery in you too?" The duke pointed his finger into Anna's face. "Are you a monster too?"

Anna rememembered her mother's lessons on etiquette and took a deep breath. "I'm completely ordinary," she snapped. "And my sister is not a monster!"

Marta, the castle housekeeper, approached, handing Anna her shawl. "It's getting chilly, Anna." She fluffed her graying blond hair. She glanced at the duke. "Would _you_ like to come inside?" she said pointedly.

The duke wasn't finished. "She nearly _killed_ me!"

"You slipped on ice," Hans said reasonably.

Anna turned to Hans. She was _so_ grateful for his presence right then. It was clear he was a person who did not panic even when things went horribly wrong. She tried to take on his logical tone and explain things calmly. "It was an accident. She was scared. She didn't mean it. She didn't mean any of this!"

The group of people that had gathered looked back at her, unbelieving.

Anna turned to Marta. "You talked to the other servants regularly. Did _you_ know?"

"Her chambermaid is mute. She had no other servants."

"Naturally!" the duke said.

Hans put a firm arm on the duke's shoulder. "Go inside," he ordered.

"But - "

"Princess Anna is upset and you're contributing. _Go_ inside."

The duke went.

Anna couldn't help but smile. It _was_ pleasant to be protected like that.

Meanwhile, Marta was saying, "I knew there was somethin' odd about her. Queen Elsa wasn't using coal in her fireplace, you see. Her servant Helga always took coal for her room in the winter but then, Helga always went home to her family on the weekends, carryin' somethin' heavy in a sack. Tried to keep it a secret too. I suspected it might have been all of that unused coal."

"The queen didn't get _cold_?" Hans asked, amazed.

"And you never told me about it?" Anna felt bitter tears in her eyes. _Everyone_ had lied to her with their silence.

"It seemed odd, that's all. I didn't know what to make of it. I knew nothin' about magical powers. Had I known, I don't know if I would have stayed at the palace." Marta sighed. "Maybe I would stay for _your_ sake, Anna. You've been through so much already..."

Anna stared and clearly saw the separation. She was 'Anna'. Elsa was 'her majesty.' Servants would stay for _her_, but nobody would stay for Elsa. She had never given them a reason to love her.

_Nobody_ loved Elsa. And yet, _she_ had been the one with the burden of preparing to be queen. And the burden of keeping her powers secret. And the same burden that Anna had carried for three years, the grief of losing mother and father. Who _was_ Elsa really? Anna wondered. How had she managed all these years? Was there any way to find out?

"Tonight was _my_ fault," Anna said. "I pushed her. So I'm the one that needs to go after her."

Marta's eyes narrowed. "That's ridiculous! Send a search party. Write an apology letter and have them take it. It will take awhile but they'll find her eventually. You know she won't freeze out there. On the other hand, _you_ might."

A letter? Just like the one Elsa had passed to her after the funeral? _I love you. Go away.__ Don't knock on my door again. _The memory still stung. It had been so _much_ and still so far from _enough_.

"It has to be me," Anna said. She swallowed hard. "Nobody else cares like I do."

Hans put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "It's too dangerous."

"Elsa isn't dangerous," Anna said. "Please, saddle my horse!" she called. "And put some hot cider in the saddlebag!"

"Let me come with you!"

Anna hesitated, tempted. It _would _be lovely. But who would rule with her and Elsa gone? Hans was calm and intelligent and rational. Exactly, the sort of person that was needed.

"I need you to stay here and take care of Arendale until I...until _we_ return."

Hans stared. A blush of pleasure colored his face. "On my honor."

_I love you_, Anna thought. But the words felt odd and thick on her tongue. She didn't say them.

She took the saddlebag, gave the weeping Marta a brief hug and rode into the woods.

* * *

Elsa decided to make a snowman.

She did not know why she started with that in particular. Perhaps, as a warm up for the staircase. A_ cold_ warm-up, she thought, smiling.

She let the snow zip through her fingers and into the air. It didn't fly randomly when she was choosing to let it fly. It landed almost exactly where she meant it to. The feeling in her fingers was..._silvery_. She didn't know how else to describe it. Silvery and strong. When she was finished, she stepped back and studied her handiwork. It was a wonderful snowman, jolly and plump.

It _hurt_ to look at it.

Elsa turned away. She _couldn't_ have Anna as a friend no matter what choices she made. Not behind a closed door, not on a high mountain. At least, now, she could have_ herself._ Herself and a staircase to her own personal heaven.

She let the silvery feeling gather in her hands and then she let it go.


End file.
